Season 2 Episodes 3 - 4 from my perspective: short story collection 4
by Sweepeaspatch
Summary: More short stories based on the episodes. No rhyme. No reason. Just the compulsion.
1. Chapter 1

**Story Listing** **:**

1\. S2 E3 – NOT Liming

2\. S2 E3 – Da Hong Pao POW (3 parts)

3\. S2 E3 - The Crossword

4\. S2 E3 - A Most Delicate Operation (5 parts, M in chapters 4 + 5)

5\. S2 E4 - The Falling Out

6\. S2 E4 - Breaking Up Is Hard To Do (5 parts)

7\. S2 E4 - The Kiss (4 parts)

8\. S2 E4 - For Days and Weeks and Months

9...WiP?

 **S2 E3 – NOT liming**

"And you?" he asks quietly, leaning casually against the veranda door jamb.

She is smiling sweetly, lost in thought for several moments before she reacts, "Oh, um, I'm just taking it easy. Nothing really." _Ask me to stay_ , she thinks, _please_.

He wrinkles his nose and frowns a bit, "Liming? Is that liming?" This is his new word of the week and he's not sure he knows how to use it. His voice is low and hesitant.

She pauses, "No, not really."

"You see, I hear people say that, that they're doing nothing, but what does that actually consist of? What are its constituent parts? Define 'nothing'."

"I'm not sure I understand the question."

He sighs, "No, that's just it, isn't it? You don't understand the question and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to understand the answer." He looks away. She suddenly feels bereft, as if a dearly wanted prize has been snatched away. "Maybe some things are supposed to remain a puzzle," he adds. She sighs, _YOU are certainly a puzzle_ , she thinks.

He quirks his eyebrows and smiles gently at her, his face at rest, something she doesn't often see. Sunlight glints in his eyes, sparking green fire. She is just about to say good night and turn away when something huge and angry rises in her. _NO! Not this time! I'm not going to just walk away! I'm NOT!_

She takes a deep breath and stands her ground. His eyes continue to watch her, gently, almost sleepily. He is so relaxed. When would be a better time? _Let's see what happens_ , she thinks.

"You know," she drawls low in her throat, "… there's other meanings of the word 'nothing'."

He looks bemused, "There are? In which dictionary?"

"Mine, for one. There's the nothing you do on your own, the kind of nothing you do when you're alone and lonesome. Are YOU ever alone and lonesome?"

His gaze sharpens. He straightens up slightly, not quite as relaxed, "Well, I've come to enjoy my own company, as I told you…"

"Yes, I remember. But a man needs a woman… and a woman needs a man… maybe not all the time… but sometimes. Yes?"

He is getting flustered, "Well, no… I mean… some men… well, yes… perhaps… but…"

"Do you know your eyes glow in this light? Your skin is golden right now."

His mouth opens and closes soundlessly. He has absolutely no come-back for that.

"And do you know what I'd like to do right now?" He shakes his head very slowly. "I'd like to do nothing with you, here, right now. Would you let me do that?" He thinks it over very carefully then nods hesitantly. "Oh, good. Thanks," she says then takes his face in her hands and gently kisses him.

When she draws back and looks at him, his eyes are closed and he seems to be elsewhere. After a few moments he opens his eyes and they blaze up brighter than before. He looks at her for a long time as she patiently waits. He straightens up, smooths down his tie, "And that's your definition of 'nothing', is it?" He shuffles back and forth for a few seconds, not sure if he should stay or if he should go. Finally, he turns back to her, "I must say, I think I prefer your vernacular over mine. Can we do more 'nothing' together?"

She smiles, "I've got all night. I have nothing to spare."

He smiles, "I see. Nothing to lose, then?"

She steps into his personal space and he allows it, looking down at her indulgently. "Nothing ventured…" she murmurs.

He laughs, "Ah… nothing gained. Gotcha." He is glowing with more than sunlight now, "Think we can do nothing while the moon comes up… with maybe a bottle of wine? I happen to have a mature Rioja."

She takes his proffered arm and he leads her back through the door and into the deepening shadows within, "Richard, there is nothing I'd like more."

END


	2. Chapter 2

**will post daily**

 **S2 E3 – Da Hong Pao POW**

Part 1 of 3

Government House, office of The Commissioner of Police

"I believe we both owe someone a hearty apology. 24 hours, you say? Bit of a whiz, is he?"

"Most assuredly. I was very remiss to doubt him in the slightest. I'm afraid my base nature outweighed my better instincts. I will never doubt him again. He's proven himself time and time again. I believe he has earned my trust and I will give it to him whole-heartedly from now on."

"Oh, absolutely. He's a real brain-box to be sure. Um, does he have a partner, do you know?"

"Of course, Sergeant Bordey."

"No, I mean, you know, a partner partner."

"Ah. Not that I know of. He's a very private man. I know next to nothing about his personal life other than I assume he has one."

"Oh. Well, if you could just tender our joint apologies to him, I'd appreciate it, Selwyn."

"Of course, Jeremy. I should have done it weeks ago but I will get it done today."

Honoré Police Station

He is enjoying his daily cup of Da Hong Pao tea. Perfect tea. Absolutely perfect. He has found Nirvana and it is right here in this pokey little office with no A/C and he bloody well doesn't care! He would drink this elixir naked on the beach in front of the Queen if it was the only way! Ah, bliss. There is nothing he wouldn't dare, nothing he wouldn't brave, to get this ambrosia into his mouth. Nothing.

His happiness is interrupted most cruelly.

There is a single heavy tread of warning then the Commissioner is somehow magically before him, glowering down from his impossible-to-explain superior altitude even though Richard knows they are roughly the same height. Maybe it is the man's girth or his overpowering stare… whatever it is, Richard feels about 7 inches tall next to him.

The big man gives him a come-hither look and marches away out of earshot of the other officers. Richard can see his team ostentatiously working very studiously and obviously eavesdropping as hard as they can. He's never sure if they are listening in glee or in commiseration at his dressing-downs. He hopes the latter. Sometimes it is all that gets him through the day, their moral support.

But this isn't a dressing down. The Commissioner is looking grim because he has to do something he doesn't do often… apologize. That… and it is his permanent expression.

"I've just come from a meeting with Jeremy Tipping. He's getting ready to return to the UK and he thought it was high time that I apologize to you for ever doubting your capabilities to solve the Dupree murder case. Granted, he feels guilty for pushing me to such short-tempered action… but I am here to apologize none the less. As I told him, I let my base nature outweigh my better instincts. I will never doubt you again." He pauses to consider his D.I. for a moment, noticing the man's impatient glances to his desk, "Ah, THE TEA. Well, don't let me keep you from your moment of bliss." He turns away then swings back, catching Poole in mid-step in his rush to get back to his teacup, "One more thing, if I may?"

Poole nods jerkily… _oh, now what?_

"Speaking to Jeremy made me wonder… I'm curious as to your limits. Next time, it will be 18 hours to solve the case… just for my own satisfaction, you understand."

Poole smiles as if the Commissioner has made a joke then sobers quickly under the big man's steady gaze. He swallows nervously, "But, sir! Surely you can't expect us to actually…?"

The Commissioner leans in very slowly and murmurs, "We shall see, hmmm?" He straightens up, gives the man one last visual blast then is gone without a sound.

Poole stares after him, lost for words... _18 hours? Really?_

When he turns back to his team, they are staring at him in consternation. They only caught the odd word but they know their Chief is upset. Very carefully, Dwayne chances, "Does he still have every faith in us, Chief?"

"I'll say! He says our next dead-line is 18 hours!"

They all bolt to their feet, "WHAT!" Choruses of "That's impossible!" and "No way!" and "Is he crazy?" meet this amazing announcement.

"Are you sure you understood him?" Camille asks.

"Very sure. It seems Jeremy Tipping holds some influence over the Commissioner."

"Well, then, you just go tell Jeremy Tipping he has to change the Commissioner's mind!" Camille says.

The phone rings.

Fidel answers then gets a funny look on his face. He holds it out to the Chief, "It's Jeremy Tipping."

Everyone crowds around. Richard rolls his eyes… _honestly, is there no privacy anywhere for anything?_ The conversation is short and to the point. When Richard hangs up, he looks pensive.

"Well?" Dwayne has to ask, "What did he want?"

"He wants me to meet him tonight for drinks aboard his yacht. He'll be just off my beach at 7pm."

"Ah, man! On his yacht! I always wanted to see that Jacuzzi! Lucky you!"

"Well, I seriously doubt I will be invited into the Jacuzzi. It's just drinks."

"Ah, man! The Jacuzzi!" Dwayne is inconsolable.

Later that evening

When Richard steps aboard 'The First Cut', he is surprised to discover that he is the only guest. Over their first drink, he is told that Jeremy is selling the yacht and returning home to 'the family pile' as his condition has worsened dramatically. He needs to go into care and his aging parents are insisting he come home.

"Pity, really. I DO so love this island. I'll miss everything about it." He looks down into his drink then up at Richard, "Also, before I go, there was one thing I wanted to finish… well, maybe not finish as I never really got started but… something I wanted to do… to ask… to hope…"

At Richard's puzzled look, Jeremy places a careful hand on Richard's forearm where it rests on the railing.

End – part 1


	3. Chapter 3

Part 2 of 3

Richard looks down in surprise then back up into gentle fading eyes and he feels almost sorry to have to say, "Sorry, Jeremy. I am firmly heterosexual… not that it's doing me any good... but there you have it."

Jeremy waits a beat then slowly takes his hand back, swirls his drink, and smiles a bit sadly, "So, no luck with the ladies, wot?"

"Women are a complete mystery but I keep hoping for a miracle."

Jeremy sighs deeply, "Ah, just as well, I imagine. I can't ask you to leave paradise, now can I?"

Silence… the shadowy movement of a bowed head. "Ah, I see. You don't agree? Isn't this paradise?"

"No, not for me. I can't stand the heat."

"Well, A/C takes care of that."

"Haven't got any. Not at home and not on the job."

"Ah, pity. And there's the problem with women, of course. English women are bad enough at home. Down here they seem so much worse... imperious and very pip-pip, don't you know."

"It's not an English woman causing my problem."

"Oh, sorry. I just assumed…" A deeper sigh, he turns to look out on a moonlit sea he cannot actually see. "Well, perhaps you can practice on your brave Sergeant. I couldn't actually see if she is as lovely as she sounded, of course, but I could see her colours. She's like an exotic bird… and so slim and lithe." He turns back to Richard, "Yes, she could definitely help you…" and pauses as he processes the deep silence and stillness of the shape beside him. A long moment then the deepest sigh of all, "Ah."

Together they contemplate the vagaries of Life.

Jeremy breaks the silence, "It's not fair, really, is it? Why does love and physical attraction have to be so fraught with uncertainty?" At Richard's continued silence, Jeremy continues, "I mean, here's me at the end of my admittedly frivolous usefulness, facing God knows what back home. No doubt my parents have several women lined up for me to choose from so I can finally settle down and produce an heir, Lord help me. And here's you, trapped somewhere you don't want to be and in love with someone you are denying yourself. I imagine your folks are pushing you for grand-kiddies as well?"

A shadowy nod. A sad breath.

Jeremy smiles and pats Richard's arm, "I'd take you home in a heartbeat, if I could. But I can't, can I?"

Another shadowy movement, definitely not a nod.

Jeremy turns back to the sea, "Ah, well. So much for a happy ending. Don't suppose you have a brother or a cousin…?"

"Sorry. I'm it."

"You certainly are," Jeremy says gallantly but his heart isn't in it. He is feeling very sad and alone. He glances one last time at the man beside him, wonders one last time how it might have been, then straightens up and tells Richard something he needs to hear, "Does she always stand behind you like that, at your right hand, protecting your back?"

"Who?"

"Your lovely Sergeant."

"Well… yes, I think she does. I can't see her there, of course, but I'm sure she does."

"She's fierce as a tiger."

"She's fierce, all right. If I tried anything with her, she'd tear off my arm and beat me with it. She almost dislocated my shoulder there by your pool."

"I know. I heard most of that little exchange. Very entertaining. My hearing is sharper now and I don't think she WOULD tear your arm off. Even the fiercest of beasts has a soft spot for someone special."

"I doubt there's a man alive brave enough to try it."

"Oh, I don't know. Do you know when I saw you the clearest? When she stood behind you. She glowed with such a light that I saw you most plainly. I liked what I saw. I know physiognomy. Your body type almost always has certain… attributes… that are most pleasing."

This time the silence is hot, "It's not something I talk about. No one knows."

"No one? Anywhere? Oh, that's so sad. Richard, you make me sadder than I already am."

"Sorry."

"You shouldn't be sorry, you should be happy. She burns for you. I saw it. I heard it. And you burn for her, you as much as admitted it here tonight. Why don't you take a chance and give it a go?"

"I would need you to fix my broken nose if I did 'give it go', or fish me out of your pool, or re-attach whichever arm she wrenches off. She's just too dangerous."

"But Richard, words are more peaceful than action. I'm not saying you march up and snog her. I'm saying you just tell her. Quietly. With as few words as possible so she understands you the first time. What could it hurt?"

"Oh, you don't know hurt… well, maybe you do. Rejection is a very hard thing to face."

"But it's just words, dear boy. Words don't leave actual scars. Words can be taken back, changed, tried again. Words are always better than rude action. I mean, you rejected me just now, didn't you? It hurt a little but we're still friends, right? Plus now we understand each other much better. It's possible to strengthen a friendship even through the most awful disappointments."

Richard is nodding and thinking maybe he SHOULD take a chance. A quiet chance. He could practice his few words until he gets it just right then see what she does. Maybe he'll write her a note and post it from 10 miles away. That ought to be far enough for safety.

"There is ONE thing you can do for me… and for my team…"

"Anything I can do for you, I will. Ask away."

"The Commissioner says he will give us an 18-hour deadline on the next case. Can you please dissuade him of that? It's giving us conniptions."

"Hah! Conniptions… too droll. Yes, all right. I'll speak to him in the morning. But… for now… can I invite you into the Jacuzzi for a relaxing…"

Richard's cell phone buzzes. He waits a beat to answer it, not quite believing the invitation was offered. He must NEVER tell Dwayne. "Sorry, Jeremy, I have to take this. Murder seems to happen here a LOT."

"Quite right. Go ahead. I'll get us some fresh drinks just in case it's a crank call or something."

It IS a crank call. Camille is on the line, upset and distraught, "I'm at your place and I just happened to see Lucy and I just happened to look through her and she just happened to be pointing at Tipping's yacht and I just happened to see him touch you and I'm just wondering…" She runs out of breath and the nerve to keep talking.

Richard looks up as Jeremy returns with the drinks and sees a flash of moonlight in the vicinity of his little beach house. Lucy must be pointed right at him. "Can you see me?" he quietly asks the phone.

A long pause, "Yes. Oh, Richard, don't…"

End – part 2


	4. Chapter 4

Part 3 of 3

He pauses, takes a deep fortifying breath for courage, closes his eyes and takes the biggest gamble of his life, "Well, as I was just telling my good friend Jeremy, although I am strictly heterosexual, it's not doing me any good so… I was wondering if, perhaps, I should try something different…"

Jeremy's eyebrows rise higher and higher as he listens to this outrageous stratagem. He hands Richard his drink and leans on the railing. Richard puts a hand over the phone, "She's watching us right now," he whispers, nodding towards his beach before putting the phone once more to his ear.

Jeremy swirls his drink, takes a sip then slowly puts a hand on Richard's arm again.

Richard shoots the cell away as loud noises erupt and the two men regard one another, one in surprise, one in amusement. While he waits for the phone to quiet down, Richard asks, "How far are we from my beach over there?" as he politely puts Jeremy's hand back onto the railing.

Jeremy whispers, "I was just trying to help things along, you know, be a good Scout and all," before straightening up and answering the question, "Half a mile maybe. I don't rightly know."

"Good Scout my left…" Richard mutters then stops at Jeremy's arched eyebrow, "I mean, gee, thanks. Well, you certainly got her attention." He looks across the expanse of water towards that guilty glint of moonlight and sighs, "Ah, it's not ten miles but it will have to do. Here goes."

He puts the now silent phone back to his ear, "Are you still there? Hello? Camille? Oh… please, don't cry. I wasn't serious. Noooo, of course not! Yes. No. No. Yes, really. Jeremy and I are just talking. He's going home soon and he's agreed to help us with the Commissioner. Yes, it IS very good of him." He gives Jeremy a silent thumbs-up then listens for some time, his face softening in tender regard, "Well, that's good… because…" Another deep breath, "… because I love you too. Hello? Camille?" He covers the phone again, "I think I lost her! She's probably running home right now and…"

Jeremy pats his arm just once, "Give her a moment, man! You just dropped a bombshell on her and…"

Richard holds up a finger, "Camille? What's wrong… are you crying again? Is it mad crying or sad crying? Oh. I didn't know that was possible. OK, I'll have to take your word for it." More listening.

Jeremy takes the opportunity to put his arm around Richard and gives him a man-hug, "What a splendid performance! Good show…" he whispers but he has to let go as Richard holds the cell away for another loud blast of sound.

"Um, you'd better step away, Jeremy. She's a pretty good shot."

"Oh, absolutely! I wouldn't want to come between a glowing tiger and her…" He pauses.

Richard covers the cell with his hand, "Go ahead, you can say it… her prey. I'm under no delusions here." He puts the phone back to his ear once it is silent again.

"Well, you're a braver man than I, Richard Poole," Jeremy laughs then frowns as Richard suddenly stiffens and goes very still. "Oh, what NOW? What's she saying? She's not going to come out here and shoot me, is she? I wouldn't put anything past THAT one! Am I in danger? How exciting!"

"No," Richard hisses, covering the cell once more, "she says she has my Da Hong Pao tea! She's brewed an entire pot! An entire POT, Jeremy! And she's going to WASH in it if I don't get off this yacht and into…"

"… her arms? Bloody marvellous! This is better than a Beeb mystery whodunit! Well, what are you waiting for? Off you go!" Jeremy laughs and claps Richard on the shoulder.

"Argh! She says I'm taking too long to get moving. She's going to wash in the tea right now! How can she DO such a horrible thing! That glorious elixir is NOT rose-water!"

Jeremy lays a last hand on Richard's arm and smiles, "Stop and think for a moment. She is not shampooing her hair… she is laving it on her skin... laving it most gently I imagine AND in the most intimate of places if I read her aright. Tea… Camellia sinensis… Camille. Coincidence?"

Richard gives him a goggle-eyed look. "I don't believe in coincidence," he whispers then quickly goes back to the phone while turning away. There is a very hushed conversation that goes on for several moments. When he turns back, he looks like a man who needs to be elsewhere, "Um…"

Jeremy holds up a hand, "Say no more. I know when I'm outmanned, outgunned, and outmaneuvered. I'll have the launch brought around and you'll be on your little bit of beach within the nonce."

"Thanks, Jeremy. A nonce is about all I can stand to wait. My god, the things she SAID to me!"

Jeremy turns back from the on-board intercom, "I'm happy for you." He calls out loudly to the cell phone still clutched in Richard's hand, "Do you hear me, you tiger you?! I'm happy for him! I'll send you a box of Da Hong Pao on your wedding day. Please let him drink SOME of it out of a proper cup!"

"Jeremy! Really!" Richard exclaims, clapping a hand over the phone, "She doesn't need any encouragement from YOU!"

"I can imagine! You'd better go. Good luck, not that I think you will need it. She seems pretty determined."

"I guess I'm about to find out. Thanks for everything." He murmurs into the phone, "I'm on my way," then slips it back into his pocket and shakes Jeremy's hand.

"Not at all. I'll 'up sticks' and move off soon as you're gone. Sound carries pretty far over water and I don't need any reminders of my rotten luck. Ta."

Richard pauses on his way overboard and into the launch, "That won't be necessary, Jeremy. How bad could it be?"

"Well, I guess you're about to find out, aren't you? Like I said, good luck. Drop me a line sometime and let me know how things turn out, won't you? Not that I have any doubts… but you never know. Maybe I'll get my chance with you after all!" He laughs at the stricken look he gets, "Oh, I'm just joking! Off you go. Call me if you're ever in the Lake District and need a small castle to crash in!"

Jeremy watches the launch speed away and by the time it has returned, he is already below, having ordered to 'up sticks' as he'd promised. He sits in his big chair, listening to fine music, trying very hard not to think about what is happening on that little bit of beach in his yacht's wake. It takes most of a fifth of fine Scotch to put him to sleep that night.

As Jeremy hovers on the edge of slumber, a snippet of timeless prose drifts through his mind… _Tyger tyger, burning bright… in the forests of the night…_ His last thought, _Oh, tyger, you got a surprise tonight, didn't you? Yes, I know physiognomy… and I am NEVER wrong. Tyger, meet your match._

He smiles in his sleep.

END


	5. Chapter 5

**S2 E3 - The Crossword**

There is a bit of a contest going on in the station these days… over the crossword puzzle if you can imagine it. Dwayne and Richard are each trying to outdo the other in solving it with the fastest time. Turns out Dwayne has unexpected talents with local vernacular and popular culture that Richard lacks despite HIS special skills. Richard is highly chuffed over it and the gauntlet has been thrown down!

As a result, Fidel and Camille are repeatedly called into action by both contestants and they are getting a bit tired of it. Finally came the day that Camille has had enough.

The first sign of trouble comes when Dwayne asks her, "What's a 7-letter word for 'Ginormous'?"

"Does it start with an 'R'?" she calls out.

"No."

She swivels around, looks Richard right in the eye and calls back over her shoulder, "No idea then, sorry." She answers Richard's horrified look with raised eyebrows.

Richard has stiffened in his chair and shot a furtive glance across the room. Dwayne is puzzling away like blazes as he is very close to matching the Chief's best time but Fidel is trying to cover a huge grin. Green eyes flash back to smoky brown ones, "Oh, spare me…" he whispers, giving her his best 'Please, don't do this to me!' look.

It is totally ignored.

After several more queries from Dwayne, even he puts his paper down and looks at her, "Camille? What's with the seven letters startin' with 'R'? None of those fit!"

She takes a deep breath, giving Richard a lidded look, "Well, it fits wonderfully if you are…"

Richard shoots to his feet, "Lunch time! Everyone! Lunch time. Let's off to La Kaz. My treat!"

As everyone jostles to tidy their desks and Dwayne carefully jots down the time so he can carry on with his puzzle-race when he gets back, Camille meets Richard at the front door. He looks a bit flushed and annoyed as he whispers, "That was VERY childish… and very French, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Oui," she smiles and whispers back, "VERY French… and it makes the crossword fun for me too… after all, my 7-letter word that starts with 'R' fits so beautifully anywhere and anytime!"

"Camille! Keep your voice down," he hisses but can't help looking extremely pleased as he colours prettily, making sure to keep his back to the men.

She slips an arm through his, "I'll keep it down if you promise to fit me up as soon as you can."

He casts a forlorn look back at his other officers. Dwayne is locking up but Fidel is watching them with a calm knowing demeanor. "Oh, you are impossible. You might as well wear a sign saying, 'I'm boffing the boss and I don't care who knows it!'."

"I'm NOT boffing the boss. I'm boffing YOU. There's a difference..." she leans in and strokes his cheek, "… a world of difference," she purrs then straightens back up, "And I DO care who knows it. It's only you and me and Fidel and…"

He stops on the station steps and turns alarmed eyes upon her, "And?"

She gives him a slow smile, "And Maman, of course."

He shudders, "How did SHE find out?"

"She's French… she knew the instant she saw me after that first time."

"Oh, marvellous! I just know she will poison me now and have done with it!"

"Nonsense! She's most pleased." Camille gets him moving again as the other officers are coming down behind them. She leans in and whispers, "Haven't you noticed how circumspect she's been these past few weeks? The pressure is off ME… and all onto YOU."

"Me? Why me… oh. Blast. Well, I guess it serves me right… taking on TWO French women. All right, I'll speak to her today about my intentions." He pats her hand possessively as they cross the parking lot.

She waits a beat then growls, "Shouldn't you speak to ME first?"

He gives her an amused look, "Fine. What's a 9-letter word, starting with 'M', meaning 'to join'?"

"I don't know. What is it?"

"Why don't you ask Dwayne? He's become quite a whiz at the crossword." She pesters him all the way to La Kaz but he just smiles and shakes his head, "YOU figure it out, Sergeant. That's your job, after all!"

It is over his second cup of perfect tea when a small explosion occurs. Camille's head shoots up from her hushed conference with Dwayne, hits Richard amidships with a blazing look, then rushes off to find her mother. Richard smooths down his tie and sits back with a satisfied sigh.

Dwayne is looking after Camille with a frown, "Why would the word 'matrimony' upset her like that? It's just the crossword puzzle, right, Chief?"

Fidel quirks an eyebrow as Richard answers, "Right, Dwayne, just a puzzle… a life-long one, I hope."

Dwayne shakes his head, "Women! Half the time they make no sense… and the other half of the time you don't WANT to know what they're thinkin'. Still… what good is Life without them, hey?"

Fidel lays a firm hand on Dwayne's arm as he sees Catherine and Camille approaching, "Time for us to go, Dwayne. I seem to recall you made a mistake on 21-down back at the station."

"What? No way! Show me!" Dwayne hauls Fidel up and turns to the Chief, "Sorry, sir, but I gotta go check this out. I'm SO close to matchin' your time! You understand?"

"Oh, I understand, all right. Off you go. Good luck."

Fidel calls back over his shoulder, "You too, sir, good luck," and they are gone.

Watching the women approach, Richard murmurs most contentedly, "I don't need luck… I have them." The women settle themselves on either side of him and he smiles serenely, "Ladies… I believe we have a 'merger' to discuss."

"Oui," Catherine sighs, "… finally."

Camille slips a hand over his and says, "That clue you gave me better have been the word 'matrimony' otherwise there is going to be bloodshed right here and right now! Did I get it right?"

"Yes, dearest, you got it right. You've gotten it right for a long time now and I am ready to capitulate totally and completely. I place myself in your hands. Do with me what you will."

There is a long pause.

Camille stands and speaks without taking her eyes off Richard, "Maman, I trust you to draw up whatever plans you like. I have something else that needs immediate attention." She pulls Richard to his feet and none to gently chivvies him to the door calling back over her shoulder, "We'll get back to you in a little while… tomorrow even… to see what you've come up with… just nothing too grand, please."

Richard just manages to call out, "… no sand… and no LIME!" before he disappears from view.

Catherine watches them go with a knowing smile, _Ah, to be young and in love!_ "No fear, my darlings… I'll wait for you to return before tackling the plans. It's enough to know that…" but she is speaking to thin air. They, too, are gone. Sitting back, she sighs, _How wonderful to have agreement at long last!_

She goes to her bar and opens the small cupboard below it. She puts away the cold white candle stubs. She brings out the thick red candles and lights them. She puts away the jar of dried frangipani flowers. She plucks a sprig of 'Neverdone', an ever-blooming periwinkle she's been growing at her back door for over a year now, from behind her ear and burns it over the candles. _Yes_ , she thinks _, just what is needed NOW… something fertile and non-stop, lasting down through the generations with vigor and strength._

"Mmm," she hums as she watches the sprig flare up much hotter than it should... a VERY promising omen… i _t never hurts to help matters along… just a gentle push, mind you… not that Camille needs it… not MY daughter!_

"Mmm," she sighs again, smiling… _nor him, either, for that matter_. She'd seen the look in his eyes when he left… t _here isn't much need for ANY of this_ , she reckons…

… but she likes to think that she is helping things along, none the less.

Grand-maman has SUCH a nice ring to it, n'est pas?

END


	6. Chapter 6

**might get a bit M-ish by chapter 5… not sure what I'm editing out yet. Away this weekend but will try to finish posting within the week**

 **S2 E3 – A Most Delicate Operation**

Part 1 of 5

Tipping has offered to 'fix' Richard's nose… make it more aquiline… and… naturally… Richard is fretting! Later that day, in the relative cool of the evening, he just has to get a second opinion. "Is there anything really wrong with my nose?" he asks Camille in a slightly worried tone.

She smiles privately. She had overheard the quiet interaction between Richard and Tipping earlier and she is quite frankly AMAZED that he has held out this long before seeking reassurance. She is also extremely gratified that he has sought solace from HER. Now is her chance to console him while proving once more that he can depend upon her for support… comfort… and maybe much more…

She studies his face for a few moments, "Oh, no, I don't THINK so." This makes him frown. She tsks and steps in closer, "Let me see." She places her hands on his jawline and tilts his face up a bit then gently turns it side to side. She slowly draws a fingertip from his brow, down the ridge of his nose and beneath to rest in his philtrum. Her fingertip rests there a beat too long. His eyes begin to look anxious… _what does she see?_

She shakes her head, "Definitely not. Your nose is perfect as is. Individual and distinct. All our bodies should be so, don't you think?" She reluctantly steps back but not as far as she'd been moments ago… the game is afoot and she will press whatever little advantage he affords her.

"Well, absolutely, but…"

"But?"

"Well, I've always wished I were a bit taller…" he admits with a chagrined laugh.

"Nonsense! You are exactly the right height…" … _for me_ , she thinks, taking a half step closer.

He nods and sighs, "Well, it's not likely I'll ever get any improvements done this late in the game."

"Game?"

He looks out over the ocean and sounds a bit forlorn, "Oh, you know… Life. It's false advertising, anyway. I'm still having nightmares about the surgery I witnessed with Tipping." He looks back to her, notices how close she is, and thinks she is wonderfully supportive… and comforting. He's suddenly very glad that she's in his life… even if… well, even if…

He sighs, _No sense wishing for the moon, Poole, give it up_. He looks back out over the ocean, "It was like watching someone sew up tears in an old coat. The human body deserves a bit more respect, I think."

He hasn't moved away. He hasn't chastised her for being too close. She takes a small gamble and touches his forearm, "You warned me you'd be scarred for life. ARE you… do you think? Scarred?"

He seems to find her hand agreeable to look at, "Not really, no. The memory fades in self defense."

"Oh, good." She gives his arm a gentle squeeze.

This makes him look up, "Why good?"

"Well, I've always felt a bit… lacking. Tipping offered to enhance ME if…"

His body goes rigid and her hand is shaken off as he snaps to attention, "NO! He didn't? Absolutely not! He had no right to imply that you are imperfect in ANY way! The nerve of the man!" Richard is pacing now, short sharp strides that vibrate with indignation. He wheels about and points a finger at her, "How dare he? I've a good mind to tell him where he can stuff his offers!"

"Richard…" She takes cautious steps, draws nearer, places her hand back on his arm, _Honestly! I never know WHAT is going to set him off! I must be mad to think… mad to hope!_ Looking at him now, his eyes flashing and his face grim, she knows there is absolutely no chance of calling off her quest. As long as he is here, she will try.

He is still in full spate, "As a matter of fact, I'm sure I can find some misdemeanor to create trouble for him if he doesn't pull in his horns and leave well enough alone! I'll…"

"Richard!"

"What?"

"You're ranting… again."

"Well, honestly! This definitely deserves a rant! You can't just walk up to a woman and say 'Oh, by the way, your nose needs work or your lips need plumping or…"

"It's not my face," she says with a smile... which slowly fades as his words penetrate. "You think my face needs work?" Now SHE steps away. Her hands fly to her cheeks… sweep over her lips…

He throws his hands up in sudden realization, "NO! No, no, no, no… I would never presume…" He sees the aghast look in her eyes, drops his hands, and slumps in defeat, "Oh, dear, I know THAT look. Go ahead, yell at me. I deserve it. I have to learn to keep quiet around you." He turns away once more.

She snaps out of her worry, "No, please don't. It's the only way I can learn anything about you at all." She steps lightly up to his back and says low, "Do you know… sometimes it's why I pick fights with you… in the hopes that you will let something slip that I can add to my little store of 'Poole-isms'?"

He looks over his shoulder at her, "Wouldn't it be easier to just talk?"

She grins, "It would be… if you actually talked."

"Oh. Sorry." He looks back out to the waves.

She puts her hands on her hips and returns to her quest, "Now, back to my face…"

He sighs in utter surrender, "Your face is lovely. Don't let him touch your face. What if you scar like poor Valerie Dupree?"

"If I DID scar, would you think me ugly?"

"Of course not… you will always be beautiful…" He shuts up, passes a hand over his lips, looks down.

"Uh-huh!" She thinks about this for a moment then lobs a bombshell, "Well... would I be more beautiful if I had bigger breasts?"

The result is everything she could have hoped for! He pivots right around to stare at her, "WHAT?!"

END – Part 1


	7. Chapter 7

Part 2 of 5

She is totally vindicated in her opinion of him that he is looking into her eyes and nowhere else. This next move might be a bit cruel… he's JUST an English man, after all, but the prize is very valuable… she cups herself gently and pushes up a bit, "You know… bigger?"

His head begins to shake side to side, the movement growing as does his agitation, "Oh, no, no, no… not THAT! I had to WATCH that! It's just a bag of solution inserted behind the pectoralis muscle. It's totally fake. And think how it would feel if someone were to… you know… touch you there. It would feel like a foreign body lodged under your skin. It can't feel natural or… or… you know… erotic."

She smiles. His eyes are no longer riveted upon hers. "You've given this a lot of thought, I see."

"Well, yes, I have! I couldn't help it. Not after witnessing…" His voice trails off then his eyes snap up as if just realizing where he is, "I guess I AM a little scarred at that. Sorry," he mutters as a faint blush washes over his cheeks then fades quickly.

She drops her hands and says in a business-like manner, "Don't be. I hadn't thought about the erotic angle. You're right. A lump under your skin will always feel like a lump… something foreign that doesn't belong." She sighs. "It was just a thought. I wasn't really tempted… but I have wondered over the years…" Her thoughts are suddenly drawn into the past. Why is nothing ever simple with this man?

He hears the change in her voice, looks back up to her, "Wondered what?"

She waves a hand in the air, "Oh, you know… if my life would be different if I had been different."

Now it is his turn to comfort and support and he is very happy to do so, "Well, I've seen a lot of women officers come and go and I can tell you that slim and lithe outdoes buxom every time."

"Every time?"

She quirks an eyebrow at him that affects him oddly but he bravely carries on, "Every single time."

"On the job? Or in their personal life?" Now she is smiling at him… but also… she really wants to know.

"Oh, um, on the job. I wouldn't know about their private…" He looks a bit furtive.

"Um hum. It matters there, doesn't it?" she nods emphatically.

He bows his head a little, mutters, "Well, I suppose… men DO talk… not that they let the women hear it, of course." Now HIS thoughts are in the past as well… not somewhere he wants to be. He'd much rather stay here… in the present… in his new life… with… He raises his head and studies this woman anew. _Yes_ , he nods to himself, _yes… with her_. The realization washes over him like cool water.

"And do YOU talk… about women? Where we can't hear it?" she gently teases, not knowing the sudden flurry of thoughts that are flying through his head.

He is scandalized and shaken out of his reverie, "Absolutely not! Once I got into the position to prevent such rot, I did it in a hurry. Officers under my watch are treated strictly alike. I'm disappointed that you would think otherwise." He looks at her with sorrow… surely she knew him better than THAT!

"I don't think otherwise. I'm just trying to make you compliment me. If this doesn't work, I'll pick a fight with you and see what I can shake loose."

He is silent, his thoughts settling once more at his sudden problem at hand, "I don't want to fight. I can compliment you without trickery."

"Can you? Will you?"

"Certainly. Please don't do anything unnatural to yourself. You are perfect as you are."

"Even…?" she glances down at herself and back up to him.

"Even... especially even."

She smiles then, "OK. Mind you, it would help convince me if I thought there was even the remotest possibility that my breasts might be pleasing to someone I really care about."

He has to turn away once more, "I'm sure there's someone somewhere with enough sense to see you for who you are." He says back over his shoulder, "Don't have the surgery, please."

She takes a tiny step towards his unprotected back. How she wants to press herself up against him, to feel HIS body as nature intended it to be. Instead, she puts a hand on his shoulder which tenses up immediately, "All right. You've convinced me… for NOW... but if someone doesn't come along soon… and I mean SOON… I'll have to revisit this decision. I'm tired of being left on the shelf as the unwanted toy. I need a man in my life… and the one I really want doesn't seem to be interested."

"More fool him," he murmurs with pained restraint and a hot little stab of jealousy that he can't quite control, "Shall I send Dwayne around to sort him out?"… _and to hide the body_ , he fumes.

She pauses, _Is it possible he doesn't know? Unbelievable… but SO Richard!_ "No, Dwayne says I have to let the man make up his own mind… but I'm beginning to lose hope. What makes a man hesitate? Why can't men just say what they feel?"

"You know, your mother asked me that VERY question when I was ill with the fever," he chuffs.

"I know. She told me."

"She didn't like my answer."

"You didn't really answer the question she was asking. You surprised her with the soup rant."

He laughs, feeling the mood lighten. This conversation has gone places he isn't ready to venture into… not just yet, "Ah, yes, the soup rant. She still hasn't forgiven me."

"I think she has. She has other things to think about now."

"Such as?"

"Getting me married." His back tenses up. "Grandchildren." His hands turn to fists. She notices all this and decides on a suicidal course of action. Talking isn't working. Words are his forte and he has an entire arsenal at his disposal. She can't best him in that arena but she has a different arsenal at HER disposal… so… time to change venue.

End – part 2


	8. Chapter 8

Part 3 of 5

"Richard, I'd like to do something. Will you allow me one tiny privilege and promise not to fire me?"

He turns his head but doesn't look at her. She can see him thinking it over. "What do you want to do?"

"I can't tell you. Will you trust me?"

"You want me to give you carte blanche without knowing the slightest thing about your course of action? To trust you totally and completely?" His arms are crossed now in defensive mode.

"Yes. If you don't like it, say so and I'll stop."

There is a very long pause of consideration then, "All right." She takes another tiny step towards him and brings her arms up to embrace him from behind… when his next words stop her cold.

"Will it hurt?"

Her breath catches in her throat. _How badly has he been hurt to even THINK about asking such a question?_ How she regrets her defensive move by Tipping's pool. She knew it had been a mistake the instant she'd done it. She had bruised him in more ways than one. It is a sign of his trust in her that he is even allowing her THIS privilege. "Oh, Richard…" she whispers, "… I sincerely hope not..." and she completes the move and nestles herself against his back with a long sigh, arms around his waist, lightly, lovingly, as gently as she can manage.

They stand for many moments. She feels his rib cage halt briefly before he begins breathing again. He has turned his head towards her but he isn't speaking. She can see his eyelashes brushing against his cheek. _His eyes are closed. Why would he close his eyes? In shock? In horror? In disgust? What?_

After a few more moments of dead silence, she whispers, "Richard? Say something. Should I stop?"

He gives a tiny head shake. She can see his lips are trying to form words but, so far, no sound.

She waits a bit more but still nothing. Her lip begins to tremble as she realizes that he isn't accepting her embrace at all. His arms are still crossed. His eyes are still closed. His back is still tense. She slumps in defeat, "All right. I get the message. Sorry if I've upset you…" and she begins to loosen her arms in readiness to step back and away.

Immediately, his arms drop and his hands covers hers, holding her in place, "Don't… don't let go. You said you would stop only if I said I didn't like it. I haven't said anything… so you can't let go. Please... not yet…"

"But you haven't said anything about ANYthing! How am I supposed to know what you're thinking?"

"What I'm thinking cannot possibly be said aloud but… perhaps… I can show you?"

"Please. Give me a clue… a hint… ANYthing."

"All right," and he slowly draws her hands off his body just enough to turn around in her embrace. As his face comes into full view she sees that his eyes are glistening. If she didn't know any better she would think he is… She never got to finish that thought because his mouth is suddenly on hers and he is kissing her so lightly that she can hardly feel it. His hands are skimming her back as if he is afraid she will break… or explode… or attack.

Well, if he isn't sure of her response, she will have to spell it out for him! She steps boldly into him, eliminating whatever tiny bit of space that remains between them and runs her hands just as boldly up his back to clasp him most firmly by the shoulders.

The move seems to surprise him as he jerks in her arms and almost breaks the kiss… but she isn't having any of that! Not now! Her hands catch his head and press him back onto her mouth. She slips her tongue out just enough to sweep it across his lips. His gasp gives her the access she needs and she is in. His hands clench behind her, tightening down without thought perhaps but she welcomes it none the less. She opens her eyes just enough to check… his are still closed… and she closes hers again in satisfaction.

She lets her tongue tell him a few things he needs to know and maybe a few things he can think about later before she draws back and just looks up at him. They remain in tight embrace and it is another few moments before he opens his eyes. She is pleased to see he looks a bit dreamy.

"Anything to say?" she whispers against his lips. He is having trouble focusing his eyes… which pleases her even more. He shakes his head. She loosens her arms and takes half a step away in order to see him more clearly. He tightens his arms and draws her back. He drops his head onto her shoulder and shudders.

"Are you all right?" she murmurs, trying to catch his gaze but his eyes are closed again. He nods then pauses then shakes his head.

"You don't know?" He shrugs then nods. "OK, you're scaring me now. Please say SOMEthing."

End – part 3


	9. Chapter 9

**OK, this is definitely more M than I intended**

Part 4 of 5

He says very quietly, "There's nothing I can say to express myself right now… maybe later." He raises his face to press his cheek to her temple. He takes a slow breath as if trying to draw her into himself. His arms readjust and now he is holding her firmly, more confidently. He seems content to just hold her.

She isn't content with that. She whispers into his ear, "May I kiss you again, please?" His quick nod is all the encouragement she needs and she tastes him deeply, eagerly, possessively. He is having a hard time meeting her urgency and her mind sings in glee, _Has he never been properly kissed before? Oh, so many things to discover!_

When her tongue invades his mouth again he moans and pulls away. "Don't you like that?" she asks, "I won't do it again if…"

His eyes slip open briefly, "Do it again… deeper… harder…" and she does… over and over again as he writhes in her grasp and submits most wantonly. His hands have dropped to her hips and he is pulling her against him where she feels a very hot response awaiting her. Now SHE is writhing and her pulse is jumping. He feels so good! He feels wonderful! She has to get him naked… she needs him on the bed. She needs him under her… on top of her… in her…

She tries to give him some warning… she DOES! "Oh… chéri… I'm on fire! I need you. I want you. Can you come with me now? Will you make love to me, right here, right now?"

Blindly he nods… but… but being Richard Poole he just HAS to ask, "What… what about your… your man? Won't he be upset if he… he finds out…?"

She gives him a 'wtf' look then laughs, "Oh, you idiot! YOU'RE the man! How can you not KNOW that?"

His look back is also 'wtf' but it rapidly changes to one of joy and seeing a clear path where he'd seen only an impassable maze, "What?! ME? Really?" He hears her laughter and starts to worry. His smile vanishes and he says peevishly, "Well… well, I… in my own defense… I'm…"

"In your own defense you are an IDIOT… but I'm going to change all that now. Are you ready?"

He gasps as she tightens her embrace then he shifts his hold on her and takes her in another deep kiss, his worry and peevishness melting like snow in front of a blast furnace... no… not melting… exploding to flashpoint!

Her hands fly over his body, loosening his clothes, letting them fall where they may. He is pushing her dress off her shoulders. Within moments they are naked and the press of live skin to skin is almost more than they can bear.

His eyes fly open now and he drinks her in, "My god, you're more lovely than I could ever imagine! Oh, PLEASE do not do anything to your breasts!"

She laughs in delight, "Found your words, I see. Anything to say before I throw you onto the bed and use you most abominably?"

"Christ, no! I'm trusting you implicitly now. You got me this far. It's time to take me all the way."

"Deal!" she shouts and pushes him mightily onto the bed. He lay on the white linens, looking up at her in wonder and a little trepidation but no fear. She stands over him, savouring the moment and his loveliness. Oh, lord, she has such wondrous options. Where to start? Meeting his eyes, she knows he needs everything, all at once, with as much gusto as she can manage.

She drops to her knees. His gasp is almost a yelp. She has to catch his hands and hold them away. He is shouting something but the high ringing in her ears prevents her from hearing it. It isn't until he twists his whole body away from her that she comes to her senses. She still has his wrists tightly gripped in her hands. She has to forcibly let go in order to stroke his hip and back. His hands dive down to cover himself as he lay gasping beside her.

"Sorry! Sorry… but… oh, Richard… you are SO delectable! I couldn't help myself! Here, let me…"

He flinches away, just enough to dismay her, "No! No. Maybe I'm not ready."

"No, no, it was me. Sorry. Let me catch my breath and my manners. Let me try again."

They lay on the bed together, regarding each other as their breathing slowed. She sits up a bit, continuing to stroke his back. He relaxes a bit, moving his near hand to lean back on his elbow but keeping the other hand securely over his assets. She has to smile, "I think I'm under control now. You can let go of the family jewels."

He gives her a cautious look, "I don't think so, not just yet. You have amazingly fast reflexes and you know what you're doing. I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here."

"Well, let's see if I can't distract you."

"How do you intend to do th…" She begins undulating her shoulders most gently, giving him a smoky look and slow smile. "Oh," he gulps.

"You said I was lovely and that my breasts didn't need any enhancement. Care to check for yourself?"

End – part 4


	10. Chapter 10

**Sigh… still M-ish**

Part 5 of 5

He takes her by the shoulders and lies back onto the pillows and it is very good. He has her caterwauling within moments and totally spent within minutes. She has to stop him.

He comes back to himself very slowly, "Was it good? It sounded painful."

"Yes, it was good. And you'll know very soon whether it's painful or not… as soon as I can manage it." She buys herself some time by caressing him, teasing him, although he did not let her anywhere near her original target. He's learned his lesson for the day. When her body cools down and her nerves are no longer screaming, she begins to make love to him in earnest. She begins kissing him again. Deep slow kisses that take up all his attention. When his second hand joins his first and both are buried in her hair, holding her just so, she slowly slides her hips onto his, having to make quite the concession to accommodate a rather large obstruction.

He moans into her mouth as she settles on top of him. He is trying to say something but all she can feel is his heat, his insistent urgency. She breaks the kiss to give him a chance to speak. He gasps deeply and hides his face against her shoulder, shuddering anew.

He is just so inexplicably desirable! She couldn't stop now if a gun were held to her head. She takes a steadying breath, "Are you all right?"

"Please don't kill me," is all he can manage.

She kisses his trembling lips, "I won't, chéri. Not for a long long time."

She holds his gaze, watches his eyes darken and lose focus as she slides herself relentlessly down his entire length… and there is a lot of it, "This may be the longest night of your life…"

His eyes slip shut, a look of utter bliss washing over his face. His lips barely move as he whispers, "… the longest and the best. Don't stop for anything. Show me everything."

She watches him fade. He is lost. She doubts he could stop if a gun was held to HIS head. It is good. Better than good. The best. The absolute best she's ever felt… not that she's slept with many men… but this is hands-down to absolute best rush of pure pleasure she's ever experienced and she's sure she knows why.

Because it's HIM… finally. Him.

"Richard!" she yowls as her hips pick up the pace. Her head drops to his shoulder and she grovels atop him… writhing in pain… in pleasure… in abandonment. She feels a rush of heat and fire circling the bed… circling… drawing closer… closer… then it roars through her and she is calling his name over and over.

He arches his back, almost throwing her off. It goes on for a long long time. Finally, his hips lower back onto the bed. She is totally spent but rides him with joy. You only ever get one 'first time' and this is something she will never forget.

When it is over **,** tears spring to her eyes unbidden. She buries her face against his shoulder. It is several moments before he notices and ducks his head to brush his cheek against hers, "Don't cry! Please don't cry! I'm sorry if it was no good. I'll do better next time… I promise."

She cries harder but begins laughing too, "No good? You call that no good? My god, Richard, you almost killed me! And you're still doing it." It's true. His hips are still moving in a slow dance that sends slow rolls of bliss shivering through her.

"Does this hurt? Should I stop?" he whispers. She squeezes her eyes shut, hitching in quick breathes, not answering. He studies her briefly then rolls them onto their sides, staying inside somehow. He cups her upper-most breast and lifts it to his mouth **.** She groans, "Oh, Richard, don't… don't…" then she is just groaning. He smiles, feeling her shivers and tiny contractions all around him. It prolongs his pleasure no end. He likes it. The trick seems to be staying gentle. Well, he is a gentle man by nature. He is sure he will get the knack of it quickly. She is twisting in his arms, not really making any sense but making the most wonderful little sounds. He decides that he likes this too. So many different sounds. He will have to learn them all. Words don't really come into play during sex, it seems.

She is pushing him away now. She means it. It's time to stop. He's slipped out of her anyway. He feels cold, exposed, unguarded. He wants back inside as soon as possible. _Who knew,_ he thinks? _A man's home is not his castle. His woman is his castle. Fine! Pull up the drawbridge and slam the portcullis... we're staying in!_

He is chuckling to himself as she slowly comes around and murmurs, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I just lost my mind, that's all."

"Well, good, maybe it will find mine and they can both come back together."

He gathers her into his arms, buries his face in her hair, breaths her scents and feels her soft skin from shoulder to knee, "God, you were wonderful. Was I…?"

"You were a shocking, amazing, GLORIOUS surprise! What else have you got in your bag of tricks?"

"God knows. Guess we'll find out together." He pauses, gives her a haunted look, "Please…" he licks his lips and stammers, "… please tell me this isn't the only time."

She gives him a long baffled stare, "The… only… time? The only time! Are you kidding me? If you think I'm letting you go now then you are… are… totally…" Now it is her turn to stutter.

Relief washes over him and he can't help but laugh at the look on her face, "Hopeless? Clueless? Helpless against feminine wiles? Yep, that's me, all right!"

"Humph. It might have been feminine wiles that started this show but it was masculine wiles that carried the day **."** She sees his eager look, "Oh… my… What monster have I uncovered here?"

He kisses her nose, "No monster… just me."

"Oh, I think you will be quite enough. Thank god, I'm French, I should be able to keep up."

He rolls onto his back, laughs, "Oh, the French… a very unreasonable people. Can I rest in peace for a little bit?"

"Absolutely," she says most sincerely, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Um hum," he muses, his eyes slipping closed, "Whew, it's almost like a drug, isn't it?" He opens one eye, "What are you doing?"

She whips her hands behind her back, "Me? Nothing."

"Is that my tie you're hiding?"

"What? No! Tsk, the very idea!"

"I see. Well, fortunately, I'm used to dealing with the French." He produces his handcuffs.

"And where did you have those hidden?!" she roars as he binds her to the headboard by one hand, his tie falling to the floor during the melee.

"I'm the magic man, remember?"

"Well, I hope you can sleep with a clear conscience, you beast."

He takes her in his arms and snuggles himself down to some well-deserved rest, "Oh, I will, thanks. And when I recover from my shag-coma…"

"Yes?" she grumps.

"I'll relinquish the cuffs."

"You will? Promise?"

"Promise… as long as I get to hold the key."

"The key to the cuffs or the key to my heart?"

"Both. I think I've earned the right."

She snuggles down against him, spending a few moments finding just the right place, "Yes, I believe you have..." but he is already drowsing.

She watches him for a long time, memorizing every line, every curve, every sweet bit of him. "Hmmm," she hums as she closes her eyes, "you have earned the right to everything I have, dear heart." She opens one eye and glances down his body to his prime real estate, "As I have earned everything of yours." She suddenly heaves an enormous yawn, catching herself by surprise. He was right… it IS like a drug. She closes her eyes again and sighs, "No rest for the weary…" she kisses him "… and none for the wicked!"

He shifts slightly, pulling her closer.

She grins into the failing light feeling a bit like Christmas Eve… and holding a winning lottery ticket… and the unimaginable vista of summer vacations stretching out in every direction…

She falls asleep listening to his heartbeat with a very expectant smile on her lips.

END


	11. Chapter 11

**S2 E4 – The Falling Out**

Something's wrong. Ah, man, something's WAY wrong.

They don't talk to one another. They don't look at one another. They don't gently simmer for one another like they used to.

Something's wrong, all right, but what?

When did it start? A week ago? Two? It was during the Spa case. They'd been fine right up until then. More than fine, getting on, drawing close, maybe even getting ready to finally admit how they felt about each other but now something has happened and I don't know what. I'm a dab hand at romance and I know when a couple has hit a bump in the road.

Bump? More like a land mine!

It's painful to watch. She keeps trying and he keeps denying. I can see how her fun-loving ways have cooled and now she's just watching him with wary eyes. She knows something is wrong but not what so if SHE doesn't know then it must be the Chief.

He's changed his mind somehow. He was coming along fine, slowly changing his ways, coming to accept his lot here on the island and then BOOM! Full stop. Something about the Spa case or something that happened during the Spa case, whatever, he's back to his old ways again. With a vengeance!

Only 2 weeks ago we found out he's put in for another transfer! What a shock that was! He seemed so settled, happy even. Well, as happy as a man can be so far from home and in a totally alien environment. But still! Happy.

Camille took it particularly hard. She turned away when we heard but I was sure I saw the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. Damn the man! How can he hurt her this way? He HAS to know how she feels for him. He has to! No one is that oblivious. No one.

Well, come to think on it, maybe there is ONE man and that's the man in question. Yes, on quiet consideration, I'm sure the Chief is oblivious. It's the only thing that makes sense. He doesn't know how she feels about him so he can't make an informed decision.

Ah! Here's the Chief now, talking to the Commissioner there at the side of the road. Fidel leans out the Defender passenger window and flips the men a jaunty salute. I can see the Chief's shuttered look as we drive by. The man looks like he's trying to keep a secret but we already know. We know and we're not happy a'tall!

He's trying to jump ship. He's trying to abandon us. He wants to leave, after everything we've been through and everything we've done for him, he wants to leave. Well, let him. We'll muddle along like we've always done with all the D.I.s that have come and gone but, honestly, this betrayal hurts the worst. Worse than anything before.

Our Chief. THE Chief. How can he betray us like this? I'm not even in love with the man and it hurts! How must Camille feel? Gotta hand it to her, though, she's putting up a pretty good front. When the Chief comes up to us in the street there in front of La Kaz, she is right in his face. Apparently she's intent on dragging him to every tourist trap on the island today. Maybe if she gets him up the volcano she'll push him in. It would serve him right! Me and Fidel will just file a report and we'll get on with Life.

We make no bones about not wanting the Chief's help with the treasure site explosion. The man was pretty insulting about Le Clerc. What the heck are 'tree pixies' anyway? Whatever, let him keep his sneery English ways to himself. We can handle this on our own.

But, of course, it turns into a murder case.

Oh, man, why is nothing ever simple?

And the man does his usual magic and sees things that no one else notices.

Something happened during the initial interviews 'cause Camille is livid! The Chief is trying very hard to keep a poker face but he's smarting over something. If I was a betting man, I'd wager it has something to do with the babe in the bikini. I overheard something about 'ogling' but the fight was over before I could get close enough to hear. Whatever it was about, Camille is steamed!

Later, in the station when I had a moment to think things over, I wondered about Camille's trust issues. I know about her father, how he left her and Catherine in the lurch. The plantation murder case had brought that to light and here's the Chief trying to do the same thing. It doesn't take a Cambridge quantum physicist to figure out how this is very upsetting to Camille.

So. He's trying to leave and she's feeling abandoned.

WHY is he trying to leave? Up until a couple weeks ago, it looked like he was coming to see her in a romantic light. What man wouldn't? Except she's a fighter, a handful, showing everyone that she doesn't need anyone. The Chief is a quiet man, a book-reader, a tea-drinker, a bit of a recluse. How does a man like that rise to the challenge of Camille Bordey? Maybe he doesn't? Maybe he thinks he isn't up to the task? Maybe he backs off, gives up, looks for a way to retreat back to where he came from, back to safety and what he knows.

But it isn't the right solution. I know what the right solution is but how can I help when I don't know what's really going on? Oh, it's torture for everyone.

During this treasure case, as events unfold, I watch and listen to the coolness as it builds between them. The Chief hardly speaks. He lets Camille take the lead like he's grooming her to take over for when he's gone. When she attempts a bit of banter or friendly chat, he gives her long cold looks like he's not sure if she's professional or not. It's very hard to watch.

And his behaviour towards the Commissioner? Astonishing! He actually challenges the big man right there in front of us! Is the man TRYING to get fired or is he posturing in front of us to show dominance? Him? He's never acted all alpha like this before. Sure, he flaunts his brains all the time but that's not the same thing! Somehow the Commissioner seemed to understand what the Chief was up to 'cause he didn't raise to the bait! Matter of fact, the big man seemed to enjoy the battle of wits and insults. Maybe he doesn't have anyone to spar with, on the job like. There's talk of Mrs. Commissioner ruling the roost at home. Most big men have a VERY determined woman behind 'em so maybe he liked having a male protagonist for a change? Whatever, the image of the team wearing little pirate hats with parrots on our shoulders would have caused laughter in the before times but not now. The Chief is too intense to allow laughter now.

The Big Reveal is a bit of a relief. He seems to thaw a bit towards her. He listens and watches like he's evaluating her or maybe evaluating the whole situation, him and her, him and the island. It's hard to tell with him. I've heard others call him a 'closed book' before but I never really understood it until now. He's closed, all right, closed up and on a VERY high shelf. What will it take to open him up?

Turns out all it takes is French TV. Man! Things were going along OK until she frigged with his TV. I dunno who Fiona Bruce is but she must be a real babe to make Camille so jealous and the Chief so enraged. When he lit out chasing her down the beach, me and Fidel just stood on the veranda and watched 'em go. The chief's got quite a turn of speed for someone who works a desk job. The last we seen of 'em, they was disappearing around a spit of beach and outta sight.

Just as I was turning away I noticed something odd. She was running, looking back over her shoulder and laughing fit to drive a man mad and I reckon it worked 'cause he was seeing RED! I never seen a man so focused on mayhem that wasn't drunk or stoned or crazy out of his mind.

But.

Right behind 'em, following real close, was a weird whirlwind of sand and leaves and such. I'm almost sure it was going against the wind too, almost like it was following 'em or maybe urging 'em on. I dunno. Sometimes I see things, hear things, things that aren't really there. My granny used to say I had 'the inner eye'. She used to ask me to find signs for her in the clouds, the trees, the waves. She was real lucky with the lottery too, always buying me sweeties as a reward. She was an old woman and liked to tell stories to us kids.

When I saw this whirlwind I got a funny feeling that Fidel and I should leave so I talked him into driving me back to town and dropping me off at home.

I hope the Chief and Camille find a solution to their stalemate. I hope tomorrow brings good news on that front. Maybe I'll say a little prayer for 'em before I turn in but first I gotta close up all my windows. There's a real storm blowing up from the west, from the Chief's part of the island, almost like…

Almost like one of my granny's stories, the one about… um… uh oh…

Best not think about THAT particular story.

It has an awful ending.

The lovers burn so bright that they go up in flames.

Come to think on it, tomorrow could be interesting in all sorts of ways.

END


	12. Chapter 12

**S2 E4 – Breaking Up Is Hard To Do**

Part 1 of 5

The English Version

This whole case has been about trying to pull away, away from laid-back island attitudes, away from professional back-sliding AND, most of all, away from her.

He has asked for a transfer again.

Why? Where to start! His sleepless nights have whirled around so many disturbing thoughts and events these past weeks that it's hard to say exactly when it all went wrong. Because it IS all wrong! So very, very wrong! His life is out of control and he's scared.

Let's start with Camille almost wrenching his arm off at the spa. It had embarrassed him mightily. It had wounded his manhood (not to mention his shoulder) and his masculine pride (what there was left of it after so many years). It made him realize that she doesn't see him as a man, as a potential match. He's just someone she can push around. And where did she get that impression? Well, it had to be from him, of course. Where else? Give her an inch and she takes a mile.

It is his own fault! He is slipping professionally and she has lost all respect for him.

Yes, the public fight on the street about toys and wine, the total disregard for his personal property (the extendable pointer has never been the same), his weakness over nuns and bikinis and woman in general, his stumbling through the jungle on the way to the treasure camp, his hormonal knee-jerk reaction to Liz Curtis (god help him!)… and her CLOTHES! Those bloody shorts! How those shorts interfere with his days and haunt his nights. How dare she flaunt herself so unprofessionally? She has absolutely no respect for him at all!

Then she had betrayed a deeply guarded childhood trauma to Sister Marguerite! The first bit of real trust he had shown her and she squandered it for a laugh. How can he trust her with his whole story now? He can't and that is the cold hard truth. His hurts, his fears, his desperate loneliness, it all has to stay buried in his heart where it is safe. His to guard unto death, it seems.

She had betrayed him to the Commissioner too, let's not forget that! She'd scoffed at his defense of 'the tea conundrum' during the Commissioners' chewing-out over the handling of the spa case, throwing him under the bus right there in front of everyone! How DARE she mock him so carelessly like that? The woman has no feelings, no loyalty, no… no love for him at all.

AND she ducked out on him during the photography session at his home. He'd really expected her to be there when he emerged with the PD 46 clue but she was gone. Like it all meant nothing. Like HE meant nothing. She'd abandoned him despite all her fine talk of keeping trust and being loyal.

Abandonment? Yes, let's address that! She claims to have abandonment issues? Don't get him started! So her father left them? Big deal. She still had a mother, a fierce and dangerous opponent to anyone that dared threaten her daughter's happiness. Him? He'd been thrown to the wolves as a 7-year old child and if not for Ru he wouldn't have lived. It had taught him one thing, build your defenses and build them high! Let no one in. No one!

As for erotic feelings, witnessing that surgery had shaken him to his core and she had LAUGHED at him! All the hype and hormones over something that could be totally fake plus he might never be able to look at a woman again without seeing the flensed body, the raw red meat, the skin pulled up in tiny puckered stitches. Oh, yes, he was definitely scarred for life. Might as well give over and forget all about that sort of thing. Easier on the adrenals.

Also, the team has sharpened up enough to work cases without him. He's missed vital clues due to his inattention; the bloody fingertip at the mill, the cigarette packs at the nunnery, Liz Curtis' undercover role in the treasure case. Camille has been showing him up. Hell, even Fidel and Dwayne have been showing him up. That paranoid episode at the white board… he just KNEW they were rolling their eyes behind his back, laughing at him, mocking him like all the others. He's so tired of being mocked. He feels useless, redundant, like a fifth wheel. They muddled along without him before he arrived and they will get along fine after he's gone. He won't be missed. He is sure of it. Probably throw a party when he leaves. Like before.

He knows his attraction to her is dangerous. He is very close to acting on his feelings and this threatens his authority. There are so many instances…

-the night of the Red Dress! What a disaster! He is sure she saw his slip. She knows and is using his hopeless pining against him. Does she think she has power over him? She's forced him TWICE to admit she was right about aspects of a case that he'd missed!

-her goading him about 'trying it, trying LOVE' right there in front of Dwayne and Fidel. Why not just wear a big sign 'the boss is in love with me and I can get away with ANYTHING?'

-he'd almost laid hands on her there by the spa pool! He'd been only a heartbeat away from putting his hands around her throat, gently running his hands down her shoulders, leaning into her. He'd been SO close! Her daring smirk is all that saved him. He'd come back to his senses, shocked at his arousal. When she'd made as if to actually touch him, he'd flinched and jerked away, looking like a fool he is sure but he has to avoid her touch at all costs. At ALL costs!

-those street hugs in front of La Kaz that burned his brain. The pounding of his heart had totally drowned out the Commissioner's response to a most important question.

-the frankly insubordinate language she used against him about 'ogling' Liz Curtis (god help him!)

-the humiliating scene over naming the goat. He had tried to freeze her with his best cold stare but she'd just smirked at him once more. She is oblivious. Totally oblivious. How can she miss all the distinct cues he is shooting at her point-blank? Calls herself a detective! Huh!

She is SO sure she has the upper hand! He has to regain his control, his savoir faire, his detached logic. And in order to do THAT, his manhood has to be contained. For once and for all.

He also knows that she doesn't return his feelings. Why would she? He isn't good enough to attract her. What did he have to offer that she can't get in spades almost anywhere else? He's seen some of her blind dates. _Lord god a'mighty, I just don't measure up. Hopeless. Give it up, man._

His desperation is making him reckless. Why, he'd even stood up to the Commissioner! Bearded the man right here in the station in front of everyone! Had he been trying to FORCE the man to suspend him? Send him home? Whatever had prompted such suicidal behaviour, it didn't work. All it did was show him a possible new footing with his boss, one he actually enjoyed and would like to keep if only he were staying. Which he isn't.

She is trying to make him feel part of the island! Saint-Marie, big deal! It's just an island. Not like England, except… No, England was NOT just an island. It is his country, his home, his to defend and his to guard. That whole day wasted at the museum and all those tours. He wants to keep his identity. He'd even made that incredibly rude comment about sand in front of her mother just to prove a point, trying to act like he didn't care about their sensibilities anymore. He'd finally had to escape back to his home on a false pretense just to catch his breath. Spending time with her is too dangerous! He can't keep up the pretense. It is impossible to ignore her.

He has fought his feelings for her during the entire pirate treasure case; not returning her banter, not smiling at her, calling her Sergeant, trying his level best to pull away and regain his urban stiff-upper-lip, to be Poole of the Met once more. He has to go back to being his short-tempered self; curt, professional, and totally impersonal.

He's lost his edge. He needs to go back to being the man he'd been when he arrived. Yes, to stay sharp, to be the very best that he can be, to save his poor battered heart, he has to go back home, to England. He has to escape. He has to give her up. He has to give it ALL up.

So sad but there you are.

You can't refute cold logic.

END – Part 1 


	13. Chapter 13

**S2 E4 – Breaking Up Is Hard To Do**

Part 2 of 5

The French version

His transfer request upsets her mightily. He is abandoning her just like her father did. Never trust a man! Never depend on a man! She is betrayed, angry, and defensive.

He's started acting starchy and stroppy again like he was when he first came to them. Why has he reverted back to his bad old self? He'd been coming along so nicely. She had almost hoped to begin wooing him in earnest. No more Miss Nice Sergeant! Time to storm the Bastille with canons smoking! He would succumb eventually! But no. He has pulled up the drawbridge and slammed the portcullis in her face. What had happened?

He acts like she is the enemy all of a sudden. She knows that the defensive move there by the spa pool had been a tactical mistake. Her bemused effort to show him how strong and independent she was had back-fired. Wasn't his masculine ego strong enough to withstand such a challenge? _No, it wasn't._ Maybe he isn't the man she thought he was? _No, maybe he isn't!_

All this despite her defense of him to the Commissioner too! When the big man was chewing him out, she'd summoned all her courage and bravado and agreed with him about 'the tea conundrum' in as brave a voice as she could manage. The Commissioner had heard it but HE hadn't. HE chose to act betrayed... like she'd been mocking him! She was so insulted that she never corrected this wrong conclusion. Let him believe what he likes!

Well, OK, she'd fumbled his revelation of a childhood trauma, she'd told Sister Marguerite about it but that was the LAST time she will EVER give away any of his secrets. She knows he has so many more and she tried to prove herself worthy of his trust but that all seems forgotten now. He acts like he doesn't trust her at all now.

His obvious attraction to Liz Curtis had infuriated her, resulting in jealousy, rejection, hurt feelings, things that she is NOT used to feeling, not since her teen years, not since she'd come into her own feminine powers. Who was he to stir up such angst and uncertainty in her breast? Did he think he was the only fish in the sea? Hah! There are PLENTY of fish! Maman could net one a day for her if she wanted but…

Also, he had rejected her instincts about Liz, instincts that had turned out to be true and he had barely the grace to admit it. Since when did HE question HER professionalism? She deserved respect and honour not scoffs and mockery! He had no right! She had had a very promising career in undercover work and she could just as easily return to it, if she wanted to, if she were FORCED to.

All of this turmoil had caused her to sneak away that night he'd been all 'professor Poole' in his kitchen over the PD46 clue. He'd ignored her all evening. It had been painful and insulting. She had been furious. She chose to slip away before her anger became too much to bear and they had a huge fight right there in front of Fidel. Also, with Fidel there, what chance was there of any kind of romantic overture? She simply had to flee, to protect her poor battered heart.

And she's seen for herself how people can fall out of love so easily. She had heard the Spa suspects fight in the cells. In love one minute, out of love the next. All it took was doubt, suspicion, and anger. Well, she had a full complement of each! She has no option but to pull back, pull away from him, in her own self-defense.

For her own protection she must fall OUT of love with him, the one-time man of her dreams now her enemy once more. She had to be brave, do what's best, and take it like a big girl, breaking heart and all.

Tres dommage mais c'est la vie.

END – Part 2 


	14. Chapter 14

**S2 E4 – Breaking Up Is Hard To Do**

Part 3 of 5

The Reveal

The Big Reveal reveals more than the murderer. It shows him the truth about their partnership. They are meshing together once more. He realizes that she is very good at her job. He hasn't lost his edge. She's found hers. He is still the epitome of sleuthing skill. No need to doubt himself at all. Thinking back over the past few months, he realizes that his professionalism has not deserted him. He's still as sharp as he ever was, more so in fact with the help of his team. His team. The men… and her.

She realizes she needs him as a shining example of what she can aspire to be. She doesn't want to go back to undercover work. They are a perfect duet. They complete each other. She needs him and he needs her. He would still be brilliant and driven but rudderless without her. She has to make him stay.

He realizes that he doesn't want to leave. Not really. Not if there is the slightest chance that…

She realizes that she wants him to stay. Truly. Especially if there's the slightest chance that…

On the Station veranda

Fidel and Dwayne are inside processing Benjamin Sammy for the murders of Daniel Morgan and Ian Parks. Camille finishes her preliminary paperwork, charges outside and throws herself onto a bench, fuming. Within moments, she hears a quiet step beside her, sees the dark blur of his suit hovering at her elbow, _Oh, NOW he wants to talk?!_

The ride back from Joel Maurice's home had been fraught with unspoken tensions... Benjamin staring at Richard… Camille staring at Richard… Richard ignoring both of them and mulling over whatever is now occupying his big brain… Dwayne upset over his friend's fall from grace… and poor Fidel trying to drive while ignoring all the silent yelling going on inside the Defender.

She has so many questions but the safest is the one she blurts out, "What is Benjamin's true motive?"

Richard waits a beat then slowly pivots to face her, his face a careful mask, "Pardon?"

"You heard me! You always hear me or, at least, you used to! What's happened to us? Why are you so awful now? Why do I feel so alone and bereft? Why are you trying to leave us? Leave me?"

His face is stony, his silence complete. She drops her eyes and covers her face with her hands. She can't look at him anymore. She can't take the emptiness of his gaze. "Sorry, that just slipped out. Forget I said any of it. It's none of my business how you choose to live your life but I think I deserve to know something so important that you are willing to subvert your very reason to exist! What is Benjamin's true motive?" She feels a bit stronger now, calling on her professional mien to confront his.

When she looks back up to him, he seems different, his eyes not quite so empty, not quite so cold. He surprises her mightily by quickly sitting down beside her, folding his arms and staring down at the floor between them, "I did hear you. I always hear you. That hasn't changed. What's changed is something I can't understand, something I can't control. I thought I could escape back to my old life, save myself, but this case…" He falters, his voice is low and suppressed, "… this case…"

She waits. He is silent, thinking. Finally, she whispers, "What changed for you?"

He starts minutely, pulling out of whatever mental fugue had captured him. He looks away. She can see he is wrestling with something. She puts a hand on his arm and it seems to decide him. He turns back to her, "You. You've changed, and I've changed, and I don't know what to do now. This case, it's made me realize something fundamental."

"Fundamental how?" She is very scared of his answer.

"This island." Her surprise is evident. This is not what she expected. He sees this and nods, "Yes, this island. Benjamin's true motive was the saving of Saint-Marie and I suddenly had the soul-wrenching experience of an emotional thunderbolt! I agreed with him. Totally. Completely. I want to save my home, my island."

She is speechless but not for long, "YOUR island? YOUR home? Here? Really? At last?"

END – part 3


	15. Chapter 15

Part 4 of 5

He nods, somber and serious, "Yes. At last. Finally," and he goes on to explain what PD 46 really means. She listens to his quiet voice and hears the sincerity, the absolute acceptance, and something else, something hesitant and questioning.

When he is done, she takes a deep breath, "What else? What is it you aren't telling me?"

Now it is his turn to cover his face, "I don't want to tell you. It all sounds so foolish, so jumbled. It all made sense only hours ago but now…" he drops his hands, "… I just don't know. I'm in uncharted territory here. I'm lost."

All her uncertainty, her doubts, her fears rise up and she is swamped, overcome. He sees this and turns to her, "Camille! No! I'm not lost WITH you, I'm lost with OUT you." He pulls back suddenly, hands clasped on his knees, closed off and guarded once more, "Sorry, but there it is," he whispers.

She is frozen in astonishment, her world up-ended completely. She gulps air and regains her voice, "There WHAT is? You still haven't told me."

His eyes flick to hers then down and away once more, "Yes, I have. I've just told you everything. Please don't make me say it again."

"Say WHAT again? Richard! You are going to drive me crazy!"

He studies her for a long moment, wondering, _Can she really be that oblivious?_ "Did you really not hear me say it?" She shakes her head. "I said this island was my home." She nods. "I said… I said I was lost without you…" She nods again then stops suddenly, a soft uncertain joyous look stealing over her face.

"Do you mean 'lost' professionally or…?"

"Oh, well, no, not professionally. You are my perfect complement. Together we are unbeatable, along with Fidel and Dwayne naturally. We're stronger with each case. I am ready to tell the Commissioner to go peddle his papers elsewhere if he questions our abilities again!"

She can't help herself. She laughs at the very idea! "No, you wouldn't!"

"I bloody well would! He has no right! We're Team Saint-Marie and we're invincible!"

"Dwayne and Fidel need to hear it."

"I will tell them. They deserve to know."

"Yes, they do. But, Richard," her voice is low, tender. He stills, his confidence faltering. "Richard, what about unprofessionally?"

"Hmm?" he stalls for time, fidgeting, checks his watch, looks at the sky.

She touches his clasped hands. He starts but doesn't meet her eyes. "Richard, are you lost in your personal life too?"

His hands turn slowly in hers, fingers intertwining, warm, intimate. His eyes come up to meet hers, "I WAS… I may still be… if you don't… can you…?" Her eyebrows rise the tiniest bit, a smile threatens. He sees this and rallies all his courage, "Will you welcome me, accept me, here, to the island, to my new home?"

She is still slightly puzzled. English is his mother tongue. What is he trying to say? "Richard, concentrate now. Welcome you? Accept you? Haven't I been doing that all along? Well, except for those first few weeks when I wanted to throttle you, but if this is your home now then…?"

He frowns, sighs, "You are determined to make me say it, aren't you?" She gives him a deadpan look and nods. He takes a deep breath, "All right." Another deep breath then, "Camille, I want to stay. I want to make my life here. But to do that, I need… I need you. Not professionally. Personally. Can you do that? Can you make your life here? With me?"

She is amazed to hear a voice say, "Yes, of course. How could you ever doubt it?"

He smiles ruefully, "Well, I DID say it was all jumbled up and foolish inside my head. I did doubt it."

Still amazed, she hears a voice now say, "Well, don't doubt it a moment longer." She hears movement approaching in the inner office. Dwayne and Fidel are finishing up. They will come out to join them soon.

She stands and he stands too. She steps up to the railing and looks out over the island. Her island. His island. Finally. She feels a serene peace that is at total odds with her sudden joy.

She turns back to him. He is looking out over the island too, possessively, proudly. She smiles, "You really surprise me sometimes." She quirks an eyebrow. He quirks one back. "Just when I think you don't care about anything but your job, you do something like that." She jerks her head towards the station behind him then smiles to let him know she means everything else.

The men clatter out, full of indignation and demanding the truth, which he gives them. They are content and grateful for his confidence. His team gathers around him and he feels completely at home.

END – part 4


	16. Chapter 16

Part 5 of 5

The Chase 

Heart pounding, blood racing… he realizes that he will actually catch her!

Heart racing, blood pounding… she realizes that he is finally caught!

They stop running at the same moment.

They face each other on the beach and see the truth in each other's eyes at last. They begin to walk along the beach side by side with hands behind backs. All the doubts, the hesitation, the fears, the misunderstandings, it all comes flooding out and is discussed at great length and in great detail.

They shake their heads at the total bollocks they'd almost made of it. He had almost run back to England! She had almost gone back to undercover work! They had almost lost each other!

They laugh at their foolish viewpoints on perfectly normal happenings. All the insults and seeming betrayals are trotted out, hotly denied then coolly explained until they come to a final and complete understanding.

Everything becomes clear.

They walk for many minutes then stand just looking into each other's eyes and marvelling that they'd almost missed this magic moment by the scantest of margins! How tragic! How awful! Imagine coming this close and almost missing by a heartbeat? As they study each other, they feel those heartbeats speeding up.

Fidel and Dwayne can just make them out way off in the distance. Nothing exciting is happening. Camille and the Chief are just talking and there's no more beer. They decide to leave. BORING!

It's only boring from a distance and only for a very short time as two hearts come to the same decision at the same moment.

The two men roar off on the bike. If they'd looked back down the beach one last time they would have seen that there's now LOTS happening way off in the distance.

But that's another story.

END

**the NEXT story!**


	17. Chapter 17

**This one is a bit M-ish, by-pass if you are under age**

 **S2 E4 - The Kiss**

Part 1 of 4

Way down the beach, almost out of sight from his little house, there is something on the sand. It's hard to make out but the top part of it is a patch of red and a slightly larger patch of white. The white seems to be criss-crossed over the red and the white to bound up in a slim dark band. The bottom part is a jumble of darker colours. It seems to be one piece, whatever it is.

The object is very still but then the top bit parts briefly then reconnects. If you didn't know better, you might think it was two people wrapped tightly together… but that can't be. Not on THIS beach. He would never allow it!

Moments earlier

His mad blood lust flares to pure lust as soon as his hand closes over her arm and he swings her towards himself in a spray of sea-water and her thrilling laughter. Her laughter dies the instant she sees his face and he is gratified to see it.

It means she sees it… the hunger… the fierce hunger… and the savage victory of having caught her at last! Before he realizes it and before she can defend herself, he pulls her in for a crushing kiss that he will deny to his dying day that was even in his lexicon of moves.

He has no time for surprise as her arms are up and around him like snakes and she is kissing him back just as hard. They stand there in the surf, two famished animals feasting on each other. His hands are on her back, clenched tight and unyielding. She thrusts one thigh between his, knocking him a bit off balance and he has to grip her tightly to stay upright. But it feels so good! He drops one hand to the swell of her backside and pulls her tightly into his hips. His fingertips brush the incredible silkiness of her skin just below her shorts… Oh, those shorts! His heart rate speeds up once more.

She is pushing him, he is backing up, slowly, step by step. They force themselves up and out of the surf. He falls to his knees as soon as he feels firm sand beneath them, pulling her down. His knees are spread to give him firm control and she folds herself between his thighs, pressing up urgently into the secret hollow of his body uncharted for these many years. He presses back with power and grace. Their arms are wrapped tight around each other and they are still kissing. Have they taken a single breath? Lovers can hold their breath for a long time, it seems.

They break for air now… rough gasping breaths before diving back to full osculatory attack.

Now her hands are pressed tight against his chest, fingers nimble and quick, and he feels hot little embers groping his skin, his private skin. The sensation is so wonderful that he yanks off his tie in one move and she has his shirt fully open before the tie hits the sand. Her head ducks down quick as anything and her mouth is on him. His head snaps back and he utters a completely foreign sound high and thin to the watching sky above. She smiles against him as he repeats the sound helplessly.

 _Right! Get down to business, Poole!_ he thinks in sudden fury. He ducks his head back down and fastens his teeth onto her shoulder. Now it is her turn to wail but she is quick! Her hands flash over him; one has a mighty grip across his back and on his right shoulder, the other has dived down between them. He can't help the ragged gasp that tears out of him as he struggles to get control of her. He's the male! HE should be the one in control! But, no, her hands and her mouth have total possession of him. He wrestles with her briefly then eases off and brings both his hands up to cup her face most tenderly, gently pulling her head up off his chest and holds her for a different kind of kiss; a deeper kinder questioning kiss.

If she wants him that badly then who is he to say no?

END – part 1


	18. Chapter 18

Part 2 of 4

Not even HE is oblivious enough to mistake her intentions any longer. _Camille. Camille, in my arms, trying to eat me alive. How absolutely unbelievable._ He ducks his head in abject humility as hot devotion flares up in his breast. _Such beauty, such perfection, can it really be mine? How_ _wonderful!_

Her hands still. She senses the change in him. _He is giving himself to me. Totally. Completely. He's accepted it at last!_ She gentles her movements, curves herself against him, loosens her death-grip. What had started as an attack and become a defense is now a mutual seeking of one another.

There are many long moments of individual enjoyment of the other's attributes.

She is very pleased by his firm masculinity, his smell, his taste, his sounds. She already knows he is pretty and now she is learning everything her other four senses can tell her. She thinks maybe this will need MUCH more study and that, now, perhaps, he will allow it. _Oh, I certainly hope so! There are certain urgent questions that need answers just as fast as I can manage it!_

He is lost in his own sensory overload; the soft firm feel of her, the taste and smell, the intoxicating sounds. _Can this really be happening? Now? After a lifetime of loneliness and disappointment, can such a gift be truly within my grasp? Christ, I want her so bad! But not here, not on the beach, certainly not in the sand!_ He tears his mouth away from hers and convulses around a breath he didn't even know he needed to stay conscious, "Camille! Stop! Please, stop, just for a moment!"

She hears him, doesn't want to obey, but some deep last-ditch-effort sense of civility answers and she does stop… much to her amazement! "What? Oh, Richard! Don't ask me to stop! Anything but that!"

He is drawing in deep breaths, his forehead pressed against hers, "We have to stop… otherwise…"

She groans low and long, "Otherwise… yes! Otherwise! I want otherwise! Right here! Right now!"

He groans in answer, "Please, Camille. Don't make me do it. Not here. Not in public. Please!"

END – part 2


	19. Chapter 19

Part 3 of 4

His desperate tone finally gets through to her. She pulls back just enough to look into his anxious face. She marvels once more at how his eyes scintillate like green fire when he is excited. She's seen this look many a time on the job but never like this. No, never like this! Her heart rate speeds back up but her mind suddenly veers off-track and something like rational thought speaks up.

 _Do you really want to force him to do something in public that we both know should be private?_ _You are on a beach, in full daylight, putting on a most entertaining exhibition for anyone who happens to be watching._ Her sense of propriety suddenly kicks in. _Oh, god! After so many months of patient wooing, I am going to ruin everything! He will never forgive me if I…_

She stills and smiles. _Did he just say I could make him do it? Here? In public? Well now… that implies a certain power over him, didn't it?_ She pulls back a little farther and tries to slow down her breathing. His worried frown eases and he seems to relax in her arms just a tiny bit.

Her next thought calms and excites her in equal proportion. _And… really… do I want anyone else seeing what I've worked so long and hard to find out for myself? No. I do not. He is MY secret. A secret about to unfold… and it is going to unfold for ME alone. No one else._

She takes a final steadying breath and smiles up at his face, his dear beloved face, looking a bit scared but ready to do her bidding whatever she decides. That he would even contemplate following her lead and make love right here in the sand gives her the last bit of strength she needs to regain her sanity.

She does stop. He looks just as surprised as she feels.

"Why… why did you stop?" he stutters, worry now blossoming where unalloyed joy had reigned however briefly. _Oh, you fool! Why did you say anything? She's changed her mind!_

"Because you asked me to… and you're right."

He studies her for a long moment with sorrow then whispers, "So glad to hear it. Thank you." He swallows his disappointment and starts to get up. Her arms pull him back down and he thumps back onto the sand with huge questions shining in his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet. I don't think I have the internal fortitude to actually let go of you."

He couldn't feel more confused if he tried. His senses assure him that he is still kneeling in the damp sand with a woman in his arms and the woman is still smiling. In fact, the woman is still holding him in an extremely intimate manner.

He gives up trying to make sense of it all. This whole chase down the beach had started in an act of utter madness unlike anything he had ever done in the past. Perhaps… he studies her face for long moments… perhaps he should continue being mad? _OK_ , he thinks, _let's go with that. Besides, I don't want to let go of her either_.

With a final quashing of the frantic little voice urging caution in his head, he leaps into the void. His hand slides down the back of her arm and comes to rest on the hand hidden between them. He presses hard, hides his face against her shoulder, "I don't want you to let go. I can't believe I'm telling you this… but I want you SO bad! Do you hate me?"

At this she rears back a bit more, finally letting go the one bit of him that she never thought she would relinquish without a gun held to her head. Her hands come up to cradle his head, "HATE you? Richard, this is where I ask you if you want me as much as I want you."

She feels his smile against her shoulder. "Say it again," he murmurs.

END – part 3


	20. Chapter 20

Part 4 of 4 

Softer now, her lips brushing against his temple, "Darling, do you want me as much as I want you?"

His mouth is slowly coming to meet hers, "Again. Say it again."

Very softly now, her lips grazing over his cheek and coming to rest on his mouth, "Dear One, do you…?"

"Yes. Oh, yes. Camille, I surely do." And this kiss is the best of all; soft, gentle, full of promises and commitment, fidelity and loyalty, but it morphs quickly into something else… more of a let's-go-somewhere-private-and-get-down-to-business! kind of kiss.

He is somehow rising up, pulling her with him. Her legs feel weak as string and he has to hold her steady while she gets ambulatory. Her immobility isn't helped by the solid reality of him under her hands. She feels a bit dizzy and laughs suddenly, "I seem to have lost all the feeling in my legs! How did you manage that?"

He growls low in his throat, "I'll carry you if I have to! We are going back to my place and finish this conversation to both our satisfaction!" His arms hold her most possessively.

With his help, she manages to stumble along until she is more or less mobile again. Just as she is marvelling at his firm strength, a thought strikes her and she gulps, "What about Dwayne and Fidel? They're still back at the house!"

Now his eyes flash with something else, "If they saw any of this, if they have any sense of propriety, if they don't want to be fired… they will be gone when we get back. If not, I'll send them packing with a flea in their ear!"

"What will you tell them?" she wonders. This is a Richard Poole she's not seen before.

"I'll tell them to bugger off! I've got a man's job to do right now and I'm dying to get it done. They'd better not give me any lip either or I'll put them on night shore patrol for a solid month!"

They are laughing when they finally round the last little spit of beach and find his house totally deserted. There is a note jammed in the door which Richard reads then laughs and hands to her. It's scrawled hastily but the tone is pure Dwayne…

…We're GONE! We didn't see nothing! Tell Fidel he owes me ten bucks 'cause I just know there's gonna be fireworks here tonight! Bondye!

There is a small postscript written neatly below… Tell Dwayne he owes ME ten dollars because I know the fireworks will happen indoors and not on the beach!

"Oh, the shame of it all!" Richard moans as he picks her up and carries her over the threshold. "I have no secrets from any of you. How will I face those two come the morrow?" She can't help noticing that, despite his lamentations, he is undressing her with speed.

"Dearest, you have plenty of secrets!" she assures him as she finishes undressing him, "And I'm going to spend all night learning every single one of them! As for tomorrow, let it take care of itself."

"Oh, yes," he agrees, backing her towards his bed-side tree, "and we still have so much of today to use up. However will we manage?"

To her mind, he manages very well.

END


	21. Chapter 21

**S2 E4 – For Day and Weeks and Months**

It is one week after the pirate treasure case. The paperwork is finally finished and the files put to rest. The office was a fever-bed of activity all week but now night is falling, the air is cooling, and a satisfied sense of accomplishment has settled over the station.

Fidel has been thinking feverishly too… about Elizabeth Curtis and her tiny yellow bikini and how badly he had behaved with her there by the waterfall in the jungle. Although he doesn't want to think about it, he knows he has to… especially NOW that the Chief has placed so much trust in him.

 _Sergeant. Sergeant Best. How wonderful it sounds… but… am I morally fit for such a title?_

There is only one person he trusts absolutely for advice on this matter and it takes all day to find a moment alone with that person. Just as dusk is falling, he sees the Chief out on the station veranda. Once again, the man is not carrying his briefcase. _That's odd. But lately the Chief is taking nights off too. He certainly deserves it._ Fidel drifts out onto the veranda, catches the Chief's eye and nods towards the space beside him, "May I join you, sir?

The Chief nods back, "Certainly. I'm just waiting for Camille to tidy up and then we're off. What's on your mind, Fidel? I could tell something's been bothering you. Not having second thoughts about the exam, are you? I can assure you…"

"No, sir, not about that. It's about something else. Um, it's kind of private. I don't want anyone else to know about this."

The Chief lowers his voice and steps closer, leans on the rail to face away from the station door, "I will help you in any way I can, if I can. Please continue."

Fidel hangs his head a bit shame-faced, "It's… it's about… Oh, this is hard!"

The Chief lays a hand on Fidel's arm, "Take a deep breath and just say it."

Fidel turns to his mentor and blurts it out, "I acted a fool over Elizabeth Curtis! She rattled me so bad that I told her I wasn't married! I almost told her professional aspects of the case. I probably WOULD have told her if she'd… you know… used her… feminine wiles…" He runs down, so desperately disappointed in himself. He waits but there is no response. He risks a quick glance, _Oh, I just know I've let him down. Maybe he is even reconsidering putting me forward for the exam!_ But, no, the Inspector is looking down at his own clasped hands, nodding and smiling ruefully. When he raises his eyes to meet Fidel's, sudden shock flashes through the young man's mind, "Oh, sir, not you, too?!"

The Inspector curls a lip, "Oh, yes, me too. I'm absolutely no good with a certain type of woman. Fortunately, I don't run into them often but when I do… useless! The trick is to accept the fact that it's going to happen. You need to realize what's happening and try your hardest to concentrate on the case. The case is everything! If it helps, think of the woman as an obstacle to resolution of the case. That usually helps me focus and get over it. That and…" he pauses and smiles to himself.

"And what, sir?"

"Well, you have Juliet and Rosie, yes?"

"Yes! And I denied them… just for a split second… but I did it regardless. Oh, I'm a bad man."

"Cut yourself some slack! Is this the first time it's happened?"

"Yes. And I feel so ashamed that I let myself be distracted like that."

"Well, it probably won't be the last time, either. So… accept it… prepare for it… and remember that you have someone at home depending on you to be the good man that you really are. And you ARE a good man, Fidel, never doubt it."

They silently watch the town below come to life. Music begins to waft up from the streets.

The Chief takes a sudden breath and leans over to murmur, "I can give you one more piece of advice. Don't let the missus find out unless you want to pay for days and weeks and months. It's an awful shock for most women and just when she begins to trust you again, another temptress may come along to remind her of the danger of other beautiful women in this world."

Fidel puzzles through this. Is this a warning or a lesson? Just as he is about to ask for clarification, the lights go out behind them and they hear the final locking of the door. They turn together to watch as Camille looms into view. Fidel has thought all week that something seems different about her. She is more focused, more intense, almost impatient. She has chivied them daily to get the work done so they could close up shop right on the dot. Even Dwayne had commented about what bee flew into HER bonnet today? She acts like she's got a very important appointment and she's already late!

Camille is looking at the two of them most challengingly. Fidel gulps. He doesn't like the look in her eye. He slides a glance sideways and is doubly puzzled by the look in the Chief's eye. He is looking back at Camille just as challengingly, almost coquettishly!

Camille gives them both one last intense look then charges down the steps to the Defender. She stands at the driver's door and practically vibrates, looking up at them.

The Chief breaks off eye contact with her to give Fidel a tiny smile, "For days and weeks and months… remember that." Then he turns and almost skips down the steps.

Fidel is perplexed and watches the pair of them… the pair… oh.

The Chief flashes a green glint back up at him just before leaping into the truck, a certain expectant air now in his aspect as well. The truck roars to life and is gone in a cloud of dust.

Fidel watches the truck careen around the corner and head for the Chief's place. He nods, thinks it over, puts two and two together and comes up with two. He smiles, "Ah, good on you, Chief."

He then leans back on the railing and looks up at the darkening sky. Yes, most women are quite possessive of their men. It only stands to reason that they would take great umbrage at any threat to their conjugal sovereignty. Unless the man is very contrite. Unless the man makes it very clear that it was a simple hormonal response and he isn't really to blame. Unless… He muses for a while, thinking of all the interesting debate that could arise from such a contretemps. He thinks about maybe clearing his conscience and coming clean with Juliet tonight, maybe stopping to pick up a nice bottle of wine on his way home, maybe scrubbing Liz Curtis out of his head, maybe starting tomorrow with a clean slate.

He straightens with a thankful grin, _Right, oh rrrrright. You are SO right, Chief! Beautiful women are a danger, for sure, both here in the office and at home. Thank goodness we have the internal fortitude to withstand the pressure._

As he dashes down the stairs, he wonders if the Chief will have any more advice for him tomorrow? You just never know, he's full of surprises, isn't he? Not for the last time, Fidel hopes he has years and years to learn from the man. Absolute years and years. It just wouldn't be the same without him.

END


End file.
